Crying for Wolves
by Iron Wolf of Winterfell
Summary: In Medieval times, Feliks Łukasiewicz could boast his title as the Commander of Eastern Europe and as one of God's most faithful servants, an Archangel that came down to Earth and ride with his wings on the battlefield. But his devotion to the Holy word began to be put to test as he started to bear secret desires for his pagan lithuanian right arm.


**Crying for Wolves**

* * *

 _This land is also yours by right Dragon Lord and yet it seems that the very earth rejects you. And for once you will spill bitter tears instead of scorching flames when the wolves are gone._

Even the very paper's texture had a different feeling on his fingertips. Rougher and blasphemous. For those were ancient pagan religious books depicting all sorts of grotesque and unholy entities and false Gods, defying the only true faith of the Lord. No better than old wives' tales to fool and scare the children.

Dressed on deep red, marvelous gold and dark furs, Feliks was sitting on Toris' old chambers back when Lithuania was not together with his superb polish kingdom. It had maintained his old charm for sure and it surely had traces of Toris presence everywhere. The simplicity, the wilderness.  
The room had been kept as he had left it before he went to ask Feliks for an alliance by having his Grand-Duke marrying the polish Queen.  
But now they were back, it was suggested that Feliks should visit the Lithuanian lands, after all despite all the inhabitants were now under the same flag many of them had not seen Feliks yet after all those years.

Ah how that place felt strange! The people were different, their whispers too. They had kind smiles but fierce eyes much like Toris. The earth was different, it was dark but had a soft rooted smell of pine and rue. Toris had the same scent.  
An untamed place for sure but comforting. Much like the young wolf that ruled by his side.

But wolves are dangerous, Feliks was well aware. They were afflicted by impetuosity and sin. The wolves only accepted pagan Gods on their hearts and there was no room for other faith. Wolves lied. Even to dragons they lied, as Toris lied to Feliks.

Stacked upon a table were hoary tomes speaking of old religions and sacred beings and Feliks with his lips pursued and a slight frown was carefully but almost irritably flipping their pages.  
For sure, soon the Lord would eventually punish those who did not believed in His holy word, those human wolves and their dark wolven leader by the name of Toris Laurinaitis.  
By the end the feral animals would at last be turned into sweet lambs.

And he, the fairest of Gods' Archangels that rode into battle with draconic fire, silver swords and blessed seraphic wings, would have to stand idle and watch his favourite, his most dearest…  
For his defiance, his feralness, his old faith that refused to accept the heaven's light upon his heart and for his lie. Stepping upon a church while carrying other Gods on his chest would condemn Toris.  
His wolf lost to the infernal fires and Feliks knew that he would go after.

Heedlessly he threw the book back to the table, lost in deep, tortuous thoughts. Ah but now that Feliks thought about it, Toris never gave him an answer that night and he did not pressed the matter.  
For before he could offer Lithuania the salvation of his soul, Poland was the one who began to desire the temptation of sin that was presented to him.  
Shivering, moist and slightly parched. Terribly red because of wine, and ever so desirable such warm scent of red berries and rich grapes. And so close to his. Forbidden fruit offered to Feliks by the Devil, so generously and lustfully… Oh! By the good grace of God and the unsullied alabaster of his beatific soul why was he being tormented so with what he did not had and could never claim?!

Should those unwarily seductive lips touch his…  
 _  
Ave Satana,_ Feliks would start to screech and laugh hysterically for he would be cast away from Heaven and his hexed fate would be sealed! Blind and bloodied he would walk along with the beasts in the abysmal darkness through the long and tortuous path of sinners until reaching the fairest kingdom of rot and pestilence where his new dark master awaited for him!  
A terrible golden dragon smeared in putrid blood to mark his sin, condemned to burn into the very depths of hell, how sweet the irony!  
And those would be flames that not even Feliks would be able to resist, they would burn as painfully as Toris tongue and lips would lasciviously feel against his mouth and body!

Feliks got up from his seat afflictively as if a malicious voice was whispering softly at his ears, tattling him a truth that he already knew but refused to accept.  
And yet such truth would always accompany him, it had been planted on the moment the young wolf had appeared before him, trembling and shy. Ah but when he mustered his bravery and raised his eyes ferociously as he introduced himself…  
How Feliks had adored him on that moment. How Feliks kept adoring him until he could not control his feelings any longer. They ran wildly on his heart and burnt on his blood.

 _My wolf, my darling one…. Offer yourself to me and I will forget my prayers to die on your lips!_

Rage and fear possessed his body, miserable wretched creature he was, how dared he to have such sacrilegious thought?!  
With an irritated growl Feliks grabbed his fur hat adorned with four small brown feathers and crowning them three grey majestic hawk feathers locked in an intricate brooch of gold that rested on the table along with those books (the mere sight of those yellowed pages was enough leave him nauseated at that moment!) and furiously threw it against a wall, missing an open window by a few inches.

The sky outside was heavily charged with dark clouds and the air brimmed with electricity, a storm was coming.  
Poland leant over the window taking deep breaths in a silent despair, waiting for a peace that would never come. It seemed that the room suddenly had no air left for him and the delicate scent of wood and ancient paper reminded him of Toris way too much for him to bear.

A knock at the door ripped Feliks from his hellish suffering when a young boy's voice with a well distinguishable note of worry, asked for him.

\- My Lord?... Are you feeling unwell?

Poland sighed realizing how his behavior had caused enough ruckus to be audible outside and defeated, he ordered the boy to come in as he caught his hat from the floor.  
The door opened slowly and from the dark corridor appeared a light browned haired child of 15 years old, dark bronzed features still delicate and barely touched by the hardships of war yet and soft hazel eyes looking at his Lord Łukasiewicz with worry.

Andrzej Woleński had become a squire for Feliks only a year ago, as it was Poland himself who chose him for such role, claiming that he was the only page that actually remembered how much he enjoyed eating Pierniki during the afternoon therefore he expected for him to do an even better job as his squire.  
Despite such claim, Andrzej believed that he had been chosen by the fact that during all his childhood he had absolutely worshipped the floor that Feliks stepped on and tried to learn as much as possible with him which led for Poland to choose him as a squire when the time came as he trusted the boy and knew what he was capable of.

\- I see that you brought wine. – Feliks smiled as if nothing was disturbing him upon seeing the jug and chalice that Andrzej carried on his hands.

\- Yes my Lord, I figured that you might want some since you are so delved on those books… - he glanced curiously to the dark volumes, trying to understand what they talked about. He remembered how Poland tried to learn as much as possible about Lithuania without Lord Laurinaitis noticing – Are they written in ancient Lithuanian? Can you understand them?

\- Mind your own business boy! – he scoffed returning back to his sit waiting for Andrzej to pour some wine for him – You always had to meddle on other people's affairs, haven't you learnt nothing?

\- With all due respect my Lord… - the dark skinned boy answered carefully placing the chalice filled with red wine in front of Feliks – You also taught me that if you never ask any questions you will never learn anything useful either.

\- And what could you possibly learn with such question Andrzej? – he brought the wine to his lips, a sweet but strong flavor invaded his mouth much to his pleasure.

\- The reason why you sounded so afflicted… You seem pale and worried.

Feliks drank absentmindedly his wine without glancing towards Andrzej, whose gaze had dropped to the floor understanding that Feliks would not give him an answer but he had guessed correctly that his Lord was aggrieved with something.

In the distance a low thunder echoed, grave and terrible, the skies threatening a storm. _Or the Heavens announcing Feliks' sin_.

\- Did you took care of my clothes? – Poland asked quickly, if he kept talking he would not think about his well-deserved Heavenly punishment and would also keep his mind occupied without having Toris on his thoughts for a few moments, torturing him with his gentle smile and soft touches – I don't want them to catch humidity.

\- I did my Lord, they are all kept in safety from any natural disasters, from monsoons to earthquakes, in the comfort of your closet and organized according to your liking. – Andrzej smiled humorously, how he truly detested seeing Feliks looking so miserable. It seemed that he had succeeded in stealing a low chuckle from his Lord with such dramatic description, Poland's countenance softened and he seemed a bit happier. Encouraged by his success, Andrzej kept talking – I must say, I was very surprised when I saw Lord Laurinaitis going towards the forest a while ago. I did yelled at him that the weather was only going to get worse but he seemed quite excited by that fact given the answer that he gave me, I swear I never saw a man so happy with the prospect of an upcoming tempest. If there is indeed a beast inside the heart of every man, Lord Laurinaitis must be half wolf indeed the way his eyes gleamed at the sight of the wild.

What a terrible mistake he had just made, Andrzej realized it the moment Poland glanced furiously towards him, his eyes seemed like two living flames.

\- To the forest you say? – he asked very softly, observing the bottom of his almost emptied chalice, oh but his voice sounded so differently all the typical playfulness and joviality were gone.

\- Yes… - timidly the boy answered, wondering if he had done the right thing mentioning Lithuania to Feliks despite being at the service of the latter. Lord Laurinaitis had always been kind and calm, showing great patience and wisdom and Andrzej knew that his Lord Łukasiewicz looked upon him with great adoration despite not always letting his feelings be clear. Ah but such tender looks Poland would throw at Lithuania when he was absorbed in his work or playing around with his pet wolf-dog. What a beautiful friendship!

\- I see. - Feliks' voice interrupted the young boy's thoughts as he grabbed his hat and haughtily placed it upon his head, getting up from his seat while bearing such utmost regal expression – Andrzej go grab my cloak if you please. You are to take me to the place where you last saw Lord Laurinaitis.

\- Even in this weather?...

\- Boy do you believe that I became the Commander of Eastern Europe by fearing some rain and thunders? – something stirred on Feliks' core setting his feelings ablaze, on that moment nothing could stand up to him – Do as I command!

Not even another second did Andrzej waited to leave the room in a hurried pace, he was very much aware of Feliks temper and the seemingly careless Polish man was not the one to be crossed with should his orders be defied. Let the wolf appease the dragon, Andrzej thought as he crossed the corridor, it seemed that they had some problems to solve between them.

Poland started to walk through the room almost lost in laughter but he was not amused at all. Oh how sure he was that Toris had ran to the forest to practice his funny little heretical rituals, thinking that he could fool everyone, especially him!  
A particular grave thunder echoed, more violent than ever, which caught Feliks' attention to the window. He approached it, observing the vast forest nearby, distilling a pure hatred for it with his glare.  
If Lithuania refused to accept true religion then he should stay on that forest and never return again. But before that he was going to have a talk with Toris, oh he would hear his rage!

 _Go live with your wolves you traitor! I am regaining my rightful place at God's side once more, you shall never tempt me again_!


End file.
